CHAPTER XXIVIn the quiet of the evening they drove home across the hills, with the stars looking down upon them, the same stars that reflected in the Copple Creek at Mercer, and a little thread of a moon rising and riding the wide sky like a tipsy boat.
“Do you realize, Emily, that we really belong to each other at last?” said Nate, as his big hand stole from the steering-wheel and gathered hers close.
“We’ve always belonged, Nate,” she said, simply, “and we always would even if we’d never seen each other in this world again. I knew you’d be waiting to take me into heaven, or else I’d have to wait for you by the gate.”
Into the great ranch-house he ushered her, rough and made of logs, but full of conveniences and odd luxurious corners. A wide hearth of field-stone on one side, with wind
